Mass Effect: Lies and Secrets
by TrainerNaps
Summary: Talen Bradson is a young biotic, misunderstood by everyone but his mother. Until she is killed. Talen is left with nothing but questions. What did a botanist do to become a target? Does this have something to do with his mysterious father? Talen must travel across the stars to separate truth from lies...and find true answers to both. Updated every Friday. During ME2. ON HIATUS
1. Chapter 1: Weird, Yet Boring

**In the year 2183, a human named John Shepard would be elected to join the Specters, an elite task force answering only to the Council of the Citadel. This would be a tremendous honor for humanity.**

**John Shepard would continue to make humanity proud, and bring both safety and honor to their race, which had been closely scrutinized and harshly critiqued by other races, due to humanity's rapid-and to some, frightening-expanse in the galactic community.**

**But humanity would not stop gaining.**

**After defeating a geth invasion at the Citadel, Shepard would prove humanity's worth and win them a spot on the exclusive Council.**

**But Shepard's days of heroism as the face of the Systems Alliance would be cut short, when he was apparently killed in action by geth forces.**

**This was not so.**

**Shepard lived on, and beyond the knowledge of most, would continue to keep humanity safe from mysterious forces that threaten that galaxy.**

**These actions would go unnoticed to most.**

**As would the quest of another young human. A quest that evaded even Shepard's ears. In fact, this quest would evade the ears of most everyone.**

**This quest to separate secrets from lies…**

"Talen, what have I told you about biotics in the house!?" My mother scolded me as she walked in the door. I dropped the condiments I was levitating in a cloud of biotic energy onto the floor and put on my best fake "Good Boy" smile. My mother didn't look too impressed. Her expression drooped so much she had to push her glasses up to keep them from falling.

"Uh, Rose," I said, looking at the ceiling, addressing our apartment VI. "I thought I told you to give me a warning as to when Mom enters the building?"

_You did, _came the digital, computeristic response. _User Jane told me otherwise on her to work this morning._

My mom cocked her head to the side and grinned. "I check every morning, evil genius. Now clean this mess up." I lifted my arm slightly. "_Without biotics!_"

I try to do something nice for my mother, since she works so hard and so late anyway, and what happens? I get in trouble. That's what happens when I do anything with biotics. Help an old lady who dropped her purse at a shuttle stop? Get yelled at by a policeman. Help a store clerk pick up some goods he just dropped on the floor while restocking a shelf? Get yelled at by the manager. Try to make dinner for my botanist mother who works from five in the morning to nine at night? You can guess what happens.

You know, I've read some old books and seen some old vids. I think they called em "movies" back in the day. But, when the authors and screenwriters of the 21st century and before then imagined a future with an advance sect of humans who had near-psychic powers, they were heroes! Everyone looked up to them! They saved the day, got the girl, and usually went on some cool adventure in space!

Well, I don't have many friends, or a girlfriend, and I've never left Earth. So, yeah, then you know how I feel after I found out what was expected of my back in the early 21st.

I wish time machines didn't require an energy source half the mass of the universe to travel backwards in time, so I could go back and tell them how wrong they were. I was a reject. People hated me at regular school because of my power. And once I started the Enrichment for Biotic Minors summer program, I thought I'd finally be accepted. Maybe under my circumstance, I'd even be popular!

But no, I'm a freak there too. Biotics are weird, don't get me wrong. But _my _biotics are weird _to _biotics, if you can believe that.

I always hear documentaries and speeches and such on ANN where turians and salarians always complain about how humans are always aggressive when they're afraid of something. Which is why humans are considered to be all around aggressive by everyone out there.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not feeling very patriotic or whatever right now. I think they're right! During school, everyone gangs up on me and picks on me. They know if they were to piss me off one-on-one, I could rearrange their face on a molecular level. But I wouldn't, since all I want to do is have someone to maybe watch a movie or play a video game or just hang out with.

And at EBM every summer, the same thing happens. Like I said, my biotics are weird…

And technically, I do have one "friend." Well, I consider him a friend. I guess he may consider me just a wall to hide behind, but we get along pretty well. Ricardo Estevez is an L1 biotic, which means he's pretty much good for nothing in any biotic exercises we do. I mean, the kid's never gotten less than a 95 on any written assignment we've had, but in Capture the Flag? We usually just stick him in front of the flag, and hope that in the time it takes for Jorry to send him to the opposite end of the field, we can react.

Why do I say I'm just a wall for him, though? Once again, weird biotics. The people there know enough to get me mad. When the want Ricardo, they do their best to be passive in asking me to step aside.

"Hey, Bradson, mind stepping aside so we can please pass through to get to the wimp?" I hold firm. Whenever Ricardo needs my help, he gets it. And, well, sometimes it isn't worth much. My weird biotics have a random chance of being helpful at all. Every once in a while Jorry is willing to take the chance. Sometimes I get a bloody nose. Sometimes Jorry goes flying against the back wall. Round and round and round I go, when I'm useful, I'll never know.

I really wish I could reach out to Ricardo more, because he gets more and more stress with each beating. I'd invite him over sometime, but mom has this, "No friends over when I'm gone," rule, and she's gone pretty much always.

I finished sweeping the salt and pepper into a dust pan, and deposited it in the trash. My mom popped the top off a flavored water can and downed it. "What were you trying to make anyway, honey?"

I looked over at the bubbling mess on the stove, overflowing onto the counter. "Well, it was supposed to be an omelet…"

"Were you planning on keeping it as a future science project? Because I think the probability of tis being an omelet ended long ago." My mom liked to invoke my humor whenever possible, as we didn't get to spend a whole lot of time together. I had a pretty good sense of humor, so I rarely got depressed or offended when she joked with me.

"In fact, would you let me take that to work tomorrow? I could probably pass it off as some kind of vorcha fungus, or a salarian secretion of some sort." My mom was a botanist. Her job was to study plants from other worlds, study their properties, what they react with, practical applications in medicine and food and such, blah blah blah…

And she takes work home with her, too. Potted plants decorate, or should I say, occupy, every flat surface in the house. And even some not. I swear there's a potted Thessian tulip on to of a lamp in the living room. Which may or may not be a little counterproductive with the whole "giving off light" thing…

I'd even get up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom sometimes, and see her in bed, making observations and recording them on datapads. That's another thing I do for my mother. Her bedroom carpet and her sheets constantly have soil in them! I change her sheets and vacuum her carpet before she gets home (thankfully so, so I can use my biotics to help). You'll truly never understand how truly amusing it is to create a Singularity void on the carpet, and vacuum the dirt out of the air.

I deposited my creation in the trash. "Ha, ha, ha, mom. I didn't know plants helped you write your own material. Because that's all you ever do, is look at plants and write." She walked over to me and kissed me on the head.

"You know I do my best for us, honey."

"I know, Mom, I was only joking." She looked into my deep blue eyes with her calm, solid, brown eyes.

"You remind me so much of your father." I obviously don't know what that means. I assume he was a funny guy. All I ever get out of my mother about him is 'He died fighting for what he believed in. He died your father.' I also assume he had blue eyes. Then again, it could be my weird biotics.

"So, I guess its leftovers again?" I walked over to the fridge as my mom loaded up the dishwasher. "Rose, what do we have left?"

_The refrigeration unit contains one half gallon of milk, one day from expiration, a half-eaten cut of stake from the downstairs diner, contained within a styrofoam box, three apples, and a three slices of vegetarian pizza, two weeks old. Consumption not recommended._

"You can have the steak, dear, I ate a big lunch at work," said my mom, taking an apple out of the fridge. She checked the time on her omni tool. "Well, I'm going to bed."

I crossed my arms. "You mean you're going to do more work _in_ bed?"

She sighed, and once again looked me in the eyes. Youthful confusion and the experience and clarity of time on this Earth once again clashed. "I do this because I want to, not because I have to. I could put you up for adoption and live a comfortable life with the money I make already."

I laughed. I had tremendous respect for this woman and all she did, and she was even proud enough to joke about it. "I love you, Mom."

She kissed me on the cheek. "I love you, too. Don't stay up too late. And when you go to bed, no playing games on your omni tool. I don't want to have to make Rose put the Dampening filed back on at night."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, because that makes working in bed so much harder."

"Goodnight, Talen."

"Goodnight, Mom."

…

I walked into my bedroom after showering and shut the door. My room was rather small, my bed taking up most of the space. A small closest where I kept my clothing sat parallel to my window, which gave me a magnificent view of the Vancouver sky traffic at night, as well as the lights of the city, and of course, the sunset. Since there was no room for a bookshelf, all of my books and datapads lie in a pile next to my bed. And yes, actual books with actual pages. My mother's office was in an old library, and when they were cleaning it out to build the greenhouse and lab, my mom took some of the books home for me.

That's one of the things most people like to use to give me a hard time; the fact that I read actual books instead of just installing them on my omni tool. Which is also fuel for torment. My omni tool is a far older model. My mother got it for a discount from one of her colleagues, whose daughter was leaving to join the Alliance Navy, and would receive a new, military issue one.

But yeah, I loved to read. Having the book with you wherever you go is pretty cool and all, but the feeling of holding the pages in your hand…I mean, for a geek-reject like me, it's one of the best feelings in the world.

Hanging from my ceiling, suspended by some thin cables was my model Citadel that I had built when I was ten. My mom had gotten it for me for my birthday. I was, and still am, so interested in what's out there, what the galaxy has to offer. And the Citadel, the center of galactic culture and politics, was the thing that interested me the most. Constructed by the mysterious Protheans before they mysteriously disappeared fifty thousand years ago. My mom had promised that next year for my 18th birthday she'd take me on a trip to see the Citadel together. She had been saving up the money since I first started showing interest in things above our sky when I was seven. Maybe even before that.

The Protheans interested me just as much as everything else not of this Earth, if not more. They were a civilization far more advanced than ours, who had established a base on Mars to study ancient humans. In fact, it was this very complex that humans discovered, and with the knowledge and technology we found there, we set out for the stars. We also soon discovered another great creation of the Protheans: the Mass Relays. Massive space constructs that could whisk a ship across the galaxy in seconds. In fact, our solar system had contained one all along; Pluto's moon of Charon was actually a Mass Relay, which had been covered in ice and rendered inactive.

I sat down on my bed and took off my shoes. Behind me, on the small shelf over my bed, were the few things of most value to me. There was the framed picture of my mother and me, planting our small box flower garden on the small hanging porch of our apartment. I was six at the time, and the look on my face said that there wasn't a place in the world I'd rather be than with my mother. That still holds true.

The second item was a small potted demael flower, the kind on display at the Citadel Presidium, right in front of the Conduit. My mother had once again come through for me with that one.

The third item was something my mother said belonged to my father; one of his prized possessions. It was a small pocket lighter, the kind used to light cigarettes. Apparently my dad was a big smoker, and had tried to give this to my mom once as a gift. It had a flower pattern on it and everything. She didn't smoke, but she accepted it to be nice. She removed the fuel source, and gave it to me as a gift.

The final item of not in my room was on the wall behind the shelf. It was a poster of the Alliance's-and humanity's-biggest hero: Commander John Shepard. Although some people deny everything he said and did, and claim he was just used as a symbol to boost morale after the geth attacked Eden Prime, I think otherwise. The facts are there. He saved the surviving colonists of Eden Prime. He saved the Council when the geth attacked the Citadel. And he proved humanity was worthy of having a spot on the Council. I was crushed when he was killed a few years back. He was my hero. And he was a biotic. So maybe people could take a page from his book and see that biotics aren't all accidents waiting to happen.

In the picture, he was walking away from a brilliant sunrise, symbolic of humanity's bright future. Flying in formation away from said sunrise was a squadron of Alliance Fighters.

On his right was one of his crewmates, the turian ex C-Sec agent Garrus Vakarian. The Alliance wasn't a huge fan of ETs, but this showed they were willing to work with other species as brothers and sisters to make the galaxy a better place. His pose was calm and collected. His arms were crossed, his head was cocked back, and he just defined cool. And although it may be tough for some to see on a turian, I could tell he was grinning, ready for whatever the crew of the SR1-Normandy would face. I respected and looked up to him as well, although some don't trust him. After the Normandy was destroyed by geth, and Shepard along with it, he just…vanished. That made people distrust him more. My beliefs remained.

To his left was the beautiful and deadly Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams. I didn't know one guy my age that didn't have a crush on her. Especially Ricardo. He had the hots for Chief Williams big time. In fact, I think he has the same poster I do, except he cut Shepard and Garrus out of it and hung Ashley's picture on his wall. As she helped Shepard take down the geth and prove humanity gave as good as we got, I respected her a lot as well. As a matter of fact, I heard that she had been stationed on my mother's old home, the colony world of Horizon.

I may live on Earth, but I was apparently conceived on Horizon. My mother thought that colonial life in the Traverse wouldn't be suitable for a baby, so she took me back to Earth. And that's another thing; just because I live in Canada, don't expect me to be polite as all get-out and say "Eh" after every sentence. I'm polite, but not Canadian polite.

"Rose, lights," I said as I lied down in bed. I sighed. This is how it went tonight. This is how it went yesterday night, and this is how it'll most likely go tomorrow night. For the weirdest kid on the planet-which may or may not be an exaggeration-my life was depressingly boring.

Sadly, that would change. Because it's really hard to knock on wood in this day and age.


	2. Chapter 2: An Opportunity

"Relax, Ricardo. It's just a game." My skinny brown skinned friend tagged along with me, trying to keep up with my long strides. He was only about 5'3, and unlike most shorter people in the program, he doesn't have the build to make up for it. I mean, I'm not very bulky myself, but my biotics make up for that. Well, most of the time.

"It's a game for you, _adepto_." That's what Ricardo calls me most of the time. It means "Adept" in Spanish, which is the classification of most biotics who join the Alliance Military. There are also Vanguards and Sentinels, though they use biotics to augment their use of weaponry. When given the option during games to use a practice weapon, I usually opt out.

Today would be the start of the last week of the program for the year. Everyone looked forward to this week, everyone except Ricardo. Last week meant all games and no more classwork. We'd be tested on what we learned. And for and L1 like Ricardo, he could stand learn all day and not play war games.

Most of us here intended to join the Alliance as soon as we turned 18. Not all of us were going to be soldiers, mind you. Some were going to be medics, and use their biotics to better benefit healing on the battlefield. That aside, it's said that "A biotic who can't fight is like a fish that can't swim. Yeah, you can use it for plenty of other things, but it won't do what it's supposed to." People only see us as weapons. Nothing more.

In EBM, even when we were in the classroom, we wore a special kind of body suit that helped out biotic abilities flow more naturally. Kind of like training wheel. There were made of black fabric that could block thermal bullets, allowing us to us practice ammo on the field. It also made doing things such as making barriers easier. I quite like my suit, it made me feel like some sort of special operative at all times. Ricardo was so small; they needed to put in a special order for his.

"Ricardo, when do I ever not have your back?" The little guy made it a point to stop to talk, and then have to run to catch back up with me.

"Because there's only one of you, _amigo_. You can't be everywhere at once!"

I puffed and continued forward. "If it weren't for you, buddy, I wouldn't want to be. As it stands, I feel fortunate that I can only be in one place where everyone thinks I'm a freak, as opposed to all of them." He smiled, sympathizing with me.

"Well, don't-uh oh." In the hallway ahead of us, Ricardo saw trouble. Not the bad kind for both of us, just for him. Two girls were standing at the three was junction, talking. I recognized one. Definitely recognized. It was Junli Serato. My crush since third grade. I'm not a very religious person, but I thanked God, and the asari goddess, and the turian spirits, and everything else when I found out that she was a biotic, and that I wouldn't have to wait all summer to see her again. Her long, black hair just glistened and flowed, and looked so good with her combat suit…She made that black fabric-armor look so hot… She made school worthwhile for me. But…I don't think she even know who Talen Bradson is. Only Weird-Biotic-Freakshow-Who-Occasionaly-Destroys-Large-Quantities-of-Stuff.

I sighed and slouched. Ricardo cleared his throat and nudged me.

"Dude, you're doing it again…"I came out of my trance. Biotic waves were coming off my body like blue fire, something that happened when I got excited. Or mad. Or sad. Or about anything else. I focused really hard, and they faded.

"Sorry." I smiled meekly.

"S'okay. I just don't like drawing attention in any way shape or form."

I laughed. "You and me both…"

…

"Everyone, welcome to the first day of Final Week." Instructor Wrenly had us all line up in the practice room. All thirty of us.

"We will be starting off this week's final activities with a…fan favorite…Capture the Flag!" Jorry and his crew of jerklords whooped and cheered. Wrenly stared them down and the quieted.

"There will be no restrictions on the abilities allowed in this game-"Another round of cheers. The Instructor waited these out and continued. "You will be allowed to use all forms of biotics during this game. Now, can anyone tell me the three classifications of biotic techniques?"

Of course, Ricardo's hand shot up.

"Yes, Mr. Estevez?"

"Well, there's Telekinesis, which is the use of mass effect fields to lift or hurl object. Then there's Kinetic Fields, which can create barriers and immobilize objects. And then there's Spatial Distortion, which is the creation of shifting mass effect fields, which rips apart any objects caught in its path."

"Very good, Mr. Estevez. Much better than the answers Mr. Binks gave on his last quiz." He activated his omni tool and brought up the data. "Here we are: Question 6-Name and define the three classifications of biotic techniques. And his answers were 'Stuff that lifts stuff, stuff that stops stuff, and stuff that blows stuff up.' Respectively, of course." Most everyone chuckled. Those closest to Jorry got death stares.

"Okay then, without further distractions, we shall pick captains." Jorry and one of his goons high fived and raised their hands. Instructor Wrenly frowned and shook his head.

"You may think otherwise, Mr. Binks, but this is not a competition between you and Mr. Drake. You may be a captain, but let's pick someone else this time, shall we?" Ricardo tried to hide himself, but unfortunately, that's just what Wrenly was looking for.

"Mr. Estevez, I don't seem to see enough of you during activities. Why don't you be Blue Team Captain this time around?" Everyone snickered as he slowly walked over to Wrenly's left side.

"Mr. Estevez, you may pick first." Without a seconds hesitation he chose me. I began to walk to his side, as another round of snickers arose.

"Looks like the Witch Kid gets to be with his Toad." Those were their nicknames for us. I was the Witch Kid.

I stood at Ricardo's side, and he looked up at me, nervous. One thing about teaming up with Ricardo for anything other than academics; you become the leader. He wasn't very good in these situations. I'd whisper in his ear who to pick.

My throat went dry as Jorry's next pick was Junli. I was going to recruit her to our side. One of the occasions where my biotics just completely shut down: when facing her.

We finished picking our teams. I was careful to pick some decent biotics, and not any of Jorry's gang, since they would just subtly sabotage us, to the point where we lost, yet Wrenly wouldn't notice the sabotage.

"Alright, we've played this game plenty times to where I shouldn't have to explain the rules again." The small circular platform he was on began to rise above the field, as did the field itself; obstacles, walls, cover, and at each end of the field, the pedestal with the flag. The field was a dark blue, as were all of the obstacles and walls in the room. That was because sensors, monitors, cameras, and other features hid in the walls, monitoring, tracking, documenting, and if necessary, dampening our biotic abilities.

"Teams will have five minutes to prepare."

We all went to our sides. Once we got there, no one bothered to look at me or Ricardo. They looked at our first pick after me, a semi-popular boy named Cal. He began to give out or strategies and order. I didn't listen for my name to be mentioned; I had learned at this point that it never was in these things. He'd get to me eventually.

"Witch Kid and Toad!" I finally heard the magic words. "Just stay out of the way, okay?"

I looked over at Ricardo, and nodded. "Wish me look."

"Wait!" I cried, holding out his arms to protest me leaving. "Where are you going?"

I turned my head over my shoulder and smiled. "Better for my biotics to mess up on offense than defense." I took off.

"That's pretty arguable…" I heard him mumble.

…

The horn had sounded. The lights had dimmed a bit, and fluorescent flashes on all surfaces would strobe on and off, kind of like laser tag. I already hear explosions and _wob wob wobs _of biotic powers being used.

I ducked behind a simulated rock, and peeked around the corner. Two of Jorry's teammates were creeping towards me, doubtful that anyone had come this way.

They were a significant distance away for me to attack. Charged with dark enemy, I laughed myself at one of the. He stumbled back, the force of my Biotic Charge making him lose his balance. With Biotic Slash, I charged by omni blade with biotics, making it twice as powerful as it would be without.

The other guy leapt back, but it did no good. An arc of light followed my omni blade, extending past its actual tip. Getting hit would result in the same effect as getting hit by the actual thing.

Our suits were made to absorb omni blade attacks, but simulate pain in their place, validating the attack but preventing anyone from being hurt. The kid grabbed his leg and screamed in pain as he fell back. Someone on an upper rampart had noticed me, and I barely dodged their Flare. I stumbled, and took off towards the nearest available cover.

The boy I had knocked down with Biotic Charge was getting to his feet. Without stopping, I waved my left arm in a "Let's Go" motion, letting loose a Shockwave, and knocking him back down.

I had reached a jungle of tall pillar like constructs. I began to slowly weave through them, occasionally hearing some footsteps, but seeing no biotic enemies. I held my arms out in front of me in place of the gun I didn't have, and constantly flipped back and forth to cover entrances that were all around me.

I ducked behind a small, waist-high rectangle, and saw the enemy flag. It was red, and sat atop a wide pyramid. Just had I had begun to vault over the cover, and invisible force yanked me through the air.

Jorry's Lash brought my neck straight into his meaty paw. "Hey, Witch Kid," he said, all high and mighty. "What's it gonna be this time? You gonna knock me back? Or you just gonna flop around like a fish?" I struggled, but to no avail. He had me, literally, by a stranglehold.

"Wow, looks who's here to mess it up!" A group of my teammates had arrived to take the flag, but upon seeing Jorry capture me, had their progress stalled.

Jorry smiled. "Flop like a fish it is." He raised me up high, and then slammed me down on the ground with a biotic Nova. That meant his barriers were down. Just to spite me, the idiot had lost himself the game.

My teammates were jerks, but they were smart jerks. They all lashed out with Warps and weak Flares, knowing Jorry was now defenseless. He put up a Barrier, but it was too late. The Barrier was shredded almost immediately, and he fell back.

I was slowly getting to my feet as Jorry's backup arrived. I charged my fist with biotic energy, preparing to join them…but then I noticed in detail the relief. Mainly, Junli.

She tried to Warp one of my teammates, but he deflected. She threw up a hasty Barrier, but it was taken down. My teammate raised his fist, charged with biotics, to finish her.

And, my biotics decided to be weird. Everything got brighter. I was told by some of my…er…victims, that when things got weird, my irises glowed.

My entire arms were charged with biotic rage. "No!" I cried, and shot a Flare out of each arm. Five people were knocked back. Unfortunately…three were on my team.

"What are you doing?" cried my remaining teammate. My entire body felt numb. But I was driven to do this. Driven to protect what I loved. I raised my arm, and he rose in the air. I began to walk slowly towards him.

He began to flail and scream in protest. They knew what happened when the Witch Kid got pissed. Sadly, I barely knew what happened when the Witch Kid got pissed.

Just when his neck hovered right in front of my hand, my view faded back to normal. The lights came back on, and all biotic activity ceased as the dampening fields activated. The boy fell to the ground and scrambled back.

"Enough!" cried Wrenly, his round platform descending towards us. "Unnecessary roughness _and _sabotaging of your own team? Mr. Bradson, you've forfeited the game to Red Team.

Jorry whooped, but I ignored him. It was partially not a choice to, though. I slowly put a hand on my head as my consciousness slowly faded. Jeers, cheers, and Wrenly's lecture all vanished as I passed out.

…

"Well, look whose back." The nurse chided in her stern but friendly tone. The technology of her trade had come very far, and she was living proof. Last I heard she was about seventy five, yet she looked like she was just nearing the end of middle age.

"What happened?" I rubbed my head, trying to get rid of a fading headache.

"Why else would you be here? You're not one of those students who fake stomachaches and just come sit in my chairs gagging. You had an episode, and you passed out."

Episodes. Some called them that. Others called them Rampages.

"Anyway, you're all set to go. Your readings are normal now, and your mother is in Mr. Wrenly's office. You should go wait for her."

_Oh great, _I though as I slid off of the bed. _Kicked out of something else. My mom won't get mad at me, she'll just give me a kiss and tell me I'll find what I'm good at sooner or later. Sometimes, I wish she'd just yell at me._

…

I sat in one of the chairs outside of Wrenly's office. Mine was the closest to his office door. Over the course of a half hour, I had gotten closer, chair by chair, to try and listen in on the conversation.

"I'm not saying he's a bad child, Mrs. Bradson," said Wrenly. I rolled my eyes. That's what they all opened their closing statement with. I already knew how this would end.

"Then what _are _you saying?" my mother came back with.

"Some of the things he does are bad for other children. He-"

"He doesn't do these things on purpose. What happened to 'No Child Left Behind?'"

"This is something else, Mrs. Bradson. The people who coined the term didn't have children with immense, and unstable, psychic abilities."

"Aside from my point. You aren't giving him a chance!"

"This will be the fifth 'chance.' On the last 'chance', Caitlyn Jones ended up in the hospital with every bone in her body broken.

I remembered that one. She had insulted my mother one too many times.

"But that is also one of the reasons we are having this conference, Mrs. Bradson. A chance."

"I thought you said there would be no more."

"No, not from me. Today, many important people were observing that match. Alliance military scouts, and among others, administrators for Grissom Academy."

I had heard of that place. It was where child prodigies flourished and thrived. It was where unlimited talent and potential could be unlimited; no one would hold you back. It was my Shangri La.

I heard a shuffle on Wrenly's desk, most likely him passing her some datapads.

"You're saying these people want my son in their academy?" asked my mother.

"Yes. They were offering a full scholarship, plus transportation. On a few conditions."

"Like?"

"They were astounded by his biotic output and potential. In the room where they monitored, each student was represented by a small meter observing their biotic stability and output. While your son's stability was less than pleasing, his output at times caused the meter to turn off."

"What are the conditions, though."

"Yes, the conditions. The administrators would like to see your son in their school, but would first like psychiatric work done on him. Also-"

"Also?"

"Ma'am, as the parent of a biotic, I am sure you're aware of Biotic Overload?"

Of course she was. We got the pamphlet every semester. Biotic Overload was a very rare occurrence, where a biotic's implants wouldn't be able to handle their energy output, and would short circuit. This would result in painful biotic feedback, severely damaging the biotic's brain, possibly even crippling them.

My mother's voice was shaky. "Is my son in danger if this?"

He was silent for a moment. "Yes."

Just as I heard my mother gasp, my hands broke into a cold sweat. I was in danger of burning out my implant? The thing embedded in my brain…could kill me at any second?

"Mrs. Bradson, there's no need to worry. The administrators added this condition because they were worried. They didn't want him to get hurt. They want him to get a new implant, one that could handle his biotics."

"What are my options?" My mom's voice wavered; she was shaken now. Breaking my mother's calmness and clarity was hard to do by conventional means, but bring me into the matter and you've won. I was her world.

"I know implant transplants are very risky, but the procedure has had great leaps in efficiency and decrease in risk in the past few years. That in itself was jumped by geth technology salvaged from Eden Prim and Feros."

I heard another shuffle: another datapad.

"It's called the L5x-2. It-"

"I am not allowing my son to undergo a risky surgery, and come out with a _military grade _implant! Second of all, my son is a perfectly healthy boy. He is not in any mental state of emergency, and you need to watch yourself saying otherwise!" My mom was on a roll. "And I am not letting him leave this Earth. Not without me!"

"I understand your concerns. Regarding the implant, there are no other options. You can either hope it won't happen, or take a chance so it won't. But Talen is in danger of Biotic Overload. We are not calling him mentally unstable, we just wish for you to evaluate his psyche in relation to his biotics. And lastly, I understand your concern on letting him go. I've gone through this many times with parents of gifted biotics. Doing this does not hand him over to any authority other than you own. You can visit him whenever you chose, withdraw him whenever you chose, you could even be close to him by moving to Elysium. I hear it's a very nice place."

My mother was silent for a few minutes. "You're saying this would be the best for him?"

"I do. Here, he'd just be held back. Grissom Academy is where the best can get better."

I turned to see Ricardo walk into the office. He was smiling, and he sat down briskly next to me.

"Dude, that was amazing! You took out like six guys! Most were on our side, but-" He studied the look on my face. "What's wrong."

I sighed and leaned forward. I avoided his gaze the best I could. I knew it was wrong, but I just couldn't look at anyone right now. "No offense, but you wouldn't understand."

He nodded. Ricardo was a logical person, and wasn't a bad sport about accepting that he wouldn't understand. He was used to not understanding when it came to matters of my biotic potential.

He did know what it was like to have an overprotective mother, but not entirely on my level. My mother didn't want me to do anything dangerous on unsupervised, whereas his didn't want to risk anything that could've had to slightest butterfly effect leading to something moderately shady.

He received his implant as a young child, his mother not wanting to risk any premature biotic brain damage, even though the chances of that happening were slim to none. The only suitable implants for an adolescent were L1s, thus suppressing his biotic abilities for good. And the swap surgery was completely out of the question.

"You don't look so good," he said to me.

"Yeah, I know. My mom's talking with Wrenly about a new implant, and seeing a doctor, and getting shipped out…"

"No, I mean you look _bad_!" Before I could respond, I fell forward and clocked out before I hit the ground.


	3. Chapter 3: Give Her a Garden

I slowly opened my eyes, and immediately regretted it. It felt like someone planted a seed in my brain when I first passed out, and it had been slowly culminating into a thorn bush over the course of my absence. However long that was. The light only made it work.

My senses slowly came back to me. First taste. My mouth was bone dry, yet tasted of ozone. My ears rung like klaxons at first, but then faded to a low buzz, allowing me to hear the beeping of machinery around me. I was in a hospital.

I opened my mouth to speak, but a soft hand touched my chin. I withdrew my jaw.

"Shhh," said my mother. "Rest."

"What happened?" I mouthed.

"Biotic Overload," my mother sounded like she had been crying recently. "It almost happened. We brought you to the hospital. They had to give you a new implant."

"The L5x2?" I croaked.

"You heard us, didn't you?" My mom was glad I remembered my eavesdropping. I think she was glad I remembered anything. I heard the clack of heels entering the room.

"He's awake, doctor," said my mother.

More clacking. "Hm. Well, he's vitals are good, everything's getting back to normal. He should make a full recovery in time."

The doctor hovered over me. My vision was still blurred, but I could make out a young, skinny woman with glasses. "You're a very stubborn boy, Talen. That was a very risky operation you went through. Your body didn't fail. No, it didn't _let _us fail." She smiled, and then left.

"Mom," I started, but she hushed me.

"Get some rest, sweetie."

"Grissom…Grissom Academy. Can I go?"

She was silent. "Is that what you really want?

I nodded. She kissed me on the forehead. "We'll see when you wake up."

And as if those were the magic words themselves, I fell back into a deep sleep.

…

When I awoke, I was much better. After a few days, I was able to sit up. After I few more, I could operate most body functions with only limited hampering. My mother hardly ever left my side. Until that day when I turned on the news.

"This is Khalisah al-Jilani, Alliance News Network. Recently, we received a further update on the prototype military equipment headed for a hospital in Vancouver."

My mom froze like a deer in headlights. No, a deer in the headlights of a car containing heavily armed krogan mercs. And it got worse.

"We have confirmation that the equipment, and experimental biotic implant, was given to 17 year old Talen Bradson, who was in critical condition, and facing Biotic Overload. He is now resting and is expected to make a full recovery."

"Mom?" Sweat was appearing on her head. She was breathing deeply and slowly. She shot up, and moved to the collection of machines to my right. She slipped something out of her pocket, and fiddled with one of the machines.

"Talen, I just want you to know that I love you, and I will be back. I promise."

"Mom, I-" A cold current began to creep up my arm, and I fell back asleep.

…

I woke up later. How much later, I didn't know. Everything felt better. My head was a bit fuzzy, but other than that, I felt like a million bucks. The last thing I remembered was my mother saying she was leaving, and then doing something to my IV…

I moved my arms to rub my head, but felt something in between my fingers. I held my hand in front of my face to see what it was. It was a small, clear plastic tube. It looked familiar. It was one of my mother's vials, one that held her plant mixtures. She had put this in my IV bag. It had put me back to sleep…but once again, for how long?

A nurse walked past my room, but backed up once she saw me sitting up.

"Oh, you're awake!" She walked into my room, and checked a few machines. "Yep. You can go home now."

"What?"

"During your coma, you made a full recovery. You were set to be discharged as soon as you woke up. We still don't know what caused the coma, though." I flipped the vial into the palm of my hand to hide it.

"How long was I out?"

"About a week."

A week… "And did my mother come back?"

"No. Not since she left. Anyway, you can go home whenever you feel ready."

I felt ready. I needed to. So many questions swam through my head, and I wanted answers for all of them. Where was my mother? Why did she drug me? I thought this all the way home. I didn't think of any possible solutions, just the questions.

I reached the door of my apartment. I touched the center, and the green holo-lock appeared. It spun, verifying that I was me, and the door opened. I walked into my apartment.

"Mom?" I called. The apartment seemed empty. It was chilly. The air devoid of that sense that allowed you to call a place "home." I looked around. Nothing was out of place. All of my mom's plants were where they always were.

"Rose?" I called. Nothing. I activated my omni tool to manually interface with the apartment. The lights flickered on, and I heard the whir of the atmosphere modulator reactivating.

_Welcome back, User Talen._

"Rose!" I was glad to hear her robotic voice. "Where is my mother?"

_Bio signature detected in the kitchen._

I was looking straight at the kitchen. It was just a fridge, and oven, a few cabinets, and a round counter in the middle. But no other humans.

Correction. No living humans. I gasped as I rounded the corner. Face down, in a pool of now dried blood, was my mother.

"No…" I whispered. I knelt down and felt her skin. She was cold. She had been dead for days. I rose slowly, and fell onto the counter, clutching my head. I began to sob.

The only person who had ever loved, understood, and been there for me was dead at my feet. I slammed my fist down on the counter. Several flower pots shook. My breathing became more ragged, as did my shaking. I could barely notice through the tears in my eyes, but they flashed briefly. I was having an Episode.

Biotic energy began to crackle around me. Several pans on the stove quivered. A few pens and datapads stacked on the counter began to shake. I roared, and pushed a flower pot into the far wall with biotics. It shattered, and soil splattered against the surface.

Before I could do anything else, my biotic energy was quelled. Rose was programmed to activate an extra-strength dampening field when an Episode started. Thank God for that.

"Rose," I said, still crying, still shaking. "Who did this?"

_I do not know. There is an abrupt cut in my databanks; I suffered from a sudden virus. My Automatic backups brought me back to the day after which you did not return, August 13__th__._

That leaves a couple days' margin as to when the murder occurred. "Shouldn't you backup to the closest available second?"

_Yes, but the sabotage was thorough. The virus was designed to corrupt data up to a certain date. August 13__th__._

"What day is today?"

_Syncing with Extranet. Today is August 25__th__, 2185._

My head once again fell into my hands. So much to take in…I glanced back at my mother. I didn't want to, but I did. Her right arm was stretched forward, like she had been reaching for something. And that something was poking out from under her hand. I picked it up, and couldn't believe what I was looking at. My mother had been holding a pistol. A military-grade sidearm.

Questions seemed to breed more questions, not answers. What was my mother doing with a pistol? What was my mother, the president of my elementary school PTA, the coach of my 6th grade soccer team, the woman who screamed and called for me when she saw a spider, doing with a pistol?

I gasped once again after popping out the thermal clip. Anti-Personnel rounds. Banned for civilian and military use. I remembered a famous quote from a peace activist during the time when it was still up in the air as to whether or not they would be banned, "A person protects themselves with a shield, not a sword." This weapon was intended to kill someone when it was used.

My mom knew these people, whoever they were, were coming. And they came. But why…my mother is a botanist! If they wanted research or a rare plant or something, she probably would've given it to them!

I don't understand what they'd want! We don't have anything explicitly valuable. My mom had a few pieces of jewelry, but she wore them most of the time. Any truly rare plants are kept at her lab. So it couldn't have been a burglary; it was too carefully done.

This was an assassination.

It was that news segment! My name had gotten out in the news, and that's why she had panicked. I think…

I went to her room. Sure enough, a suitcase was on the bed. Clothes, food, and other things were piled up next to it, if not already in it. She had all of this stuff stashed away…she knew this day would come.

I slowly walked back out to the kitchen, looking at the spot where I had thrown the flower pot. I went over to scoop up the soil and clean up. No biotics. Mom would've wanted it that way.

As I scooped up a handful of soil, however, I felt something hard. I sifted through the dirt, and what I found amazed me just as much as, if not more than, the gun.

It was a greybox.

A neural device that stored memories and played them back like a video…my mom had left this for me. But couldn't use it without a neural uplink apparatus.

I resorted to sifting through the other flower pots. I felt my stomach churning, as I felt ashamed of defiling my mother's flowers. But, if this is the way she set it up, this must've been the way she wanted it.

"Aha!" I proclaimed as I pulled my hand out of a large pot containing a jungle sapling. It was a metal band, with a square box-shaped part on the back, with a small hole in the middle. Without a second thought, I wrapped it around my head, plugged the greybox into the back, and was whisked inside of it.

…

I looked around. It was dark. Everything was dark.

"Did I…do something wrong…" I thought as I looked around. Just then, a blue circle of light lit up on the floor. And at the opposite end, my mother.

"Mom!" I cried out, and sprinted at her. I tried to envelope her in a hug, but went right through her. This wasn't her. It was just a memory left behind…a shadow. I walked back slowly, and stood in front of it. It was a perfect likeness of my mother. It stood motionless and emotionless for a moment, and then spoke.

"Talen…if you're seeing this, than they've come for us. Come for _you_."

"Who are they?" I called, then realizing this most likely couldn't react either.

"I always knew this day would come," said my mother's memory. "I've prepared for it. And I'm not going to lie to you any longer. You will get the truth. When it is safe enough. But right now, it most likely isn't.

"Like I said, I have prepared for their coming. If you go through the third drawer on my dresser, and open the small compartment at the bottom, you will find a pistol, as well as potent ammunition. I know you are a very skilled biotic, but please, use it if you must."

_You had to…so I probably will too, _I thought.

"In my closet, behind all of the boxes, will be a larger compartment. In it will be food and water and other supplies. Use them to keep yourself going, but get off of Earth as soon as you can. Don't stay too long.

"If you've activated the greybox, then transferring to your omni tool right now is data vital to your survival. Among these files are fake documents stating that you can legally carry the sidearm, but not the ammunition, so be careful. It will also give you access to the credits I have been saving for when this happens. Use some of these credits to book a flight to the Citadel. Once you arrive, more data will unlock itself, giving you the information you will need on finding a volus named Fade. He will help you disappear.

"Once you've met with fade, and not a second before, use the rest of the credits to get to Horizon and find your Aunt Ramona. She will know what to do."

My mother's expression turned to one of compassion…and sorrow. "I love you, Talen. Above all else, I want you to know that."

I was tearing up again. I know I couldn't see or feel tears in here, but there were no doubt running down my face in the real world.

"Some people may say otherwise, but you are beyond perfect as just you. Don't change for anyone or anything. I love Talen Bradson. Or whomever he choses to be. But he just needs to know, no matter what, that I loved him, and I'm sorry I couldn't protect you."

I took of the greybox, and cried it out.

"No," I said, wiping my tears away and standing up. "I'm not quitting. I'm not lying down. I'm going to do this for you, Mom." I began walking down the hallway with a purpose. There was work to be done.

I emptied my mother's small suitcase of all of her things, save for a few bottle of water and some food. I put in a few articles of my clothing, as well as the greybox, barrier deep under it all. I rummaged through her closet, until a found a small, bulky cylinder that was made of a see-through material on the top. It was for transporting flowers and small plants, in a way that they wouldn't be damaged. I went into my room, and reached up onto the shelf above my bed. I first took the framed picture of my mother and I. I scanned it with my omni tool, and put it back down on the bed.

I next grabbed the potted demael flower, carefully transferring it and its soil into the container. I needed it for several reasons. The foremost, I was taking a "leaf" out of my mother's book, so to speak.

Finally, I took my father's lighter, and pocketed it. Maybe I can't remember my father with it, but I'll be able to remember my mother.

With these three things, I made my way to the door. Not without taking one last glance at my Commander Shepard poster. If my arms weren't full, I would've saluted. But I was going to do my damndest to make the man in that picture proud.

…

"Rose, is it ready?"

_Yes. You can start recording whenever you are ready._

I held up my omni tool to my face, and began to speak the message that I was sending Ricardo.

"Hey, it's me. Talen. Long story short…I'm leaving, and I might not be back for a while. If ever. You're the person I trust the must…well, you're the _only _person I trust now, but that's beside the point. Some stuff happened. I have to go. This place is…well, going to be a crime scene for a while: I'm alerting the police right before I leave. My mom is dead. She was murdered. Hopefully, the path she's sent me on will lead me to them. And you can be sure that when I find them, every biotic node in my body is going to make them feel pain.

"Anyway, I have a few requests to make. And don't back out, because you owe me." I laughed. "But seriously, it would mean a lot to me if you did these things. Once my apartment isn't…well, a crime scene anymore, I'm sending you the codes to get in so you can keep the place going. My mom had a lot of plants, it would mean a lot to her…I mean, me, if you kept them alive. I've left specific instructions for each one. My mom drilled them into my head…it'll take some time each day, though. And, no offense, but you don't really have anything better to do, so I know you won't let me down.

"And, if you're interested, I have some old books you could borrow if you want. And I mean real books. Like, pages and stuff. And when I get back…if I get back, technically, I'll be the owner of this apartment, so I can have you over sometime. My mom, well…won't be around anymore. Thanks, buddy. I really need you." I signed off. I'd send this to him later. Now, there was just one thing left to do.

I walked out onto the terrace, which was now taken up mostly by the bed of flowers I had made for my mom, one which she now rested. I had cleaned up her wound: a cut right in the middle of her abdomen. This had been done by a blade.

Her hands were folded on her chest, and in them, were the Thessian tulips that she had loved so. Below her hands, I had laid the picture from my bedroom.

Struggling to keep from breaking into tears, I closed my eyes, folded my hands, and said a silent prayer.

_God. Athame. Spirits. Whoever listens to these things, I have one request. That's it. Nothing else as long as I live. I know I've prayed for stupid stuff as a kid, but this is legit. This was the greatest woman the human race ever produced. She devoted and gave her life for me, and she deserves nothing more than a premium spot in the afterlife. So, if you could, give her a garden. She'd like that._

"Amen," I said aloud. And turned to leave. For the last time.

And through all my excitement, and all of the questions that had run through my head, one didn't. One that should have.

_What if they left something behind to watch?_

…

I sat, virtually alone, in the spaceport terminal. In a few minutes, I'd get up to purchase my ticket off world to the Citadel. I checked the time on my omni tool. 11:24. I watched for the last few seconds as it became 11:25. At this very second, Alliance databases were being updated, making a distinct change in the knowledge it carried. As of now, Talen Alexander Bradson was a mature human: an adult among his people. He could purchase a ticket by himself and leave the planet.

I sighed, preparing to get up. "Happy Birthday to me…"


End file.
